


Cut from a different cloth

by Eledhwen



Series: Fratt Week 2020 [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Does the suit maketh the man?, Fluff, Gen, Suits, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:20:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24370459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eledhwen/pseuds/Eledhwen
Summary: It's Foggy's wedding, and that means smart suits and awkward meetings.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Karen Page, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson/Marci Stahl
Series: Fratt Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759558
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Cut from a different cloth

**Author's Note:**

> I literally don't know why my brain read 'suit' and thought 'wedding'. Have some random suit-fluffiness with slightly contrived Fratt chat. Prompted by Frattweek day 2, prompt 'Suit', but then I managed to forget that it was supposed to be in some way Fratty and ended up writing it leaning towards Kastle. So apologies, Fratt fans ...

The suit, Foggy has told him, is a dove grey – not too dissimilar from the colour of his work suits, but cut from better cloth. Between Matt’s fingers it is smooth and soft. There’s a vest, and a silk shirt, and a tie to go with it which apparently is dark violet, to match the bridesmaids’ dresses.

Foggy has tied the tie for him, and it’s just a case of slipping it over his head, adjusting with the collar of the shirt and tightening it. Matt checks the pocket square is there, fiddles with his cuffs, and hopes he looks okay. He doesn’t feel quite himself, though he knows this is really just another uniform like the others he wears – the cheap-but-smart suits he puts on for work, and the mask at night.

The door opens and Foggy comes in, and Matt hears his heart take a little skip. He turns to his friend.

“Will I do?” he asks.

Foggy comes up to him and fastens a carnation in his buttonhole. “You look great, Matt,” he says, radiating honesty. He reaches up and smooths down an errant tuft of Matt’s hair. “You’ll have all the bridesmaids fighting over you.”

“All of them?” Matt asks.

“Well, except Karen, I guess,” Foggy says. Matt imagines him making a face. “I can’t believe Frank Castle is coming to my wedding.”

“Frank Castle isn’t coming to your wedding,” Matt says, “Pete Castiglione is coming to your wedding. Your friend’s boyfriend. Hopefully, in a smart suit. Nobody’ll recognise him.”

“So long as nobody else has your super-nose,” Foggy remarks.

“I’m not a bloodhound,” Matt objects.

Foggy thumps him lightly on the bicep. “You’re my best man, that’s what you are. Have you got the rings?”

Matt pats his breast pocket. “I have them.”

Taking a deep breath, Foggy says, “well then. Into the lions’ den. Oh God, Matty …”

Matt hears the fear in Foggy’s breathing, and reaches out to hug him, carefully so they don’t crease their suits. “You’ll be fine, Fogs. Anyway, what can go wrong? You’ve got two of New York’s most feared vigilantes watching over you.” He allows himself a Daredevil-esque grin, which gets the shaky laugh out of Foggy he had been hoping for, and takes his friend’s arm. “Lead the way.”

The church is filling up and the scent of incense is almost masked by the perfume the women are wearing and the sweat of men in slightly too hot suits on a warm day. Luckily the flowers are all scent-free, a concession from Foggy and Marci for Matt himself, and one for which he is grateful.

Various people come up to them, congratulating Foggy. Matt knows some of them, and stitches a polite smile on his face for everyone regardless. Then, the metallic tang of gunmetal and the rock-steady beat of a heart accustomed to stress assail his senses. He feels Foggy tense a little next to him.

“Pete,” Matt says, with a nod.

“Murdock,” says Frank Castle, and Matt just knows he’s biting back some sort of sharp comment, probably prefaced by a “Red”.

“Nice suit,” manages Foggy.

Matt decides not to tell his friend that Castle has brought a pistol to the wedding, concealed somewhere underneath his wedding suit. Somehow, he’s not surprised. He hopes that the weapon is Castle’s way of making sure Karen, and by extension the wedding party generally, is safe from some unspecified threat, but he’s pretty sure that Castle just carries a gun out of force of habit more than anything.

Castle fidgets at Foggy’s words. “Thanks. Um. I should find a seat, I guess.”

As they wait for Marci at the front of the church, Matt listens to the sound of everyone in their wedding best. There’s lots of adjusting ties and cuffs going on, and coughing, and women half-kicking their shoes off while they sit and wait for the bride. When she arrives, everyone reacts, and Foggy’s breath catches hard in his throat. Matt supposes that she must look pretty good.

They get through the ceremony without a hitch. When it’s over, Karen comes over and Matt takes her elbow, as they’d agreed before: today is a day when he must be very much the blind best friend. She walks with him down the aisle in the wake of the new Mr and Mrs Nelson, commenting under her breath on everyone’s outfits.

“Mrs Mahoney is in red,” she says, “it’s not understated. Your mom looks like she’s got a new wimple for the occasion. Foggy’s mom is in a dress that’s a darker shade of mine. It’s kinda pretty.”

“And Frank?” Matt asks.

He can feel Karen blush. “He’s in a suit.”

“I’d hope so,” Matt says. “If he’d turned up in that horrible old combat vest I’d have punched him, regardless of us being in church.”

“It’s a … it’s a nice suit,” Karen adds. “Dark blue. He looks,” she swallows a little, “good.”

Matt squeezes her arm. “I don’t mind,” he says, “you bringing him. I still don’t like his methods, but he’s honourable, in his way.”

“Thanks,” Karen says, and then they’re out of the church and swept up in photographs and hugs and confetti. The wedding moves on to the wedding breakfast, where Matt’s speech goes down well – both Foggy and Marci cry, and tell him it was beautiful.

Eventually, Matt manages to escape on to the roof terrace of the hotel to get some air. There’s dancing going on inside and the bass is reverberating through Matt’s head; he’s uncomfortably close to a headache.

But he’s not alone on the terrace. He thinks about going back inside for a moment, but then the other person spots him. “Murdock.”

“Hey,” Matt says, and crosses to stand near to Castle.

“Good wedding,” says Castle, unconvincingly.

“Yeah.” Matt loosens his tie. “Look. I know you’re wondering what Foggy and I think about you and Karen. I mostly want her to be safe, and happy.”

Castle grunts. “I’d like that too. Going to do what I can to make sure of it.” He shifts his weight, the material of his suit shifting with him, and the concealed holster with it. “It’s kinda weird, having a civilised conversation with you, in fancy suits and all.”

“You sound just the same as always,” Matt observes.

“You don’t,” Castle says, with faint admiration in his tone. “It’s like each suit you put on, you’re a different person. S’why I didn’t recognise you, when you came to represent me.”

“You don’t feel that Pete Castiglione is a different man to Frank Castle?” Matt asks.

The other man shakes his head. “Nah. I ain’t no different, just because I’ve put on a tie and grown a beard.”

“I guess that’s why nobody’s recognising you,” says Matt, enlightenment dawning.

“People are blind,” Castle says, and then he takes a sharp breath. “Hey, Red, I didn’t mean …”

“Yeah, you did,” Matt returns, smiling, because the other man’s embarrassment is amusing. Who knew Frank Castle could even be embarrassed like that? “And for once, it’s true of me. I hadn’t noticed, but now you mention it, I can hear the beard bristling against your collar.”

Castle fidgets more, and Matt stores away the useful information that he, like most other people, is unnerved by any mention of super-senses.

The awkward moment is broken by Karen approaching across the terrace. There is an acceleration in both her heartrate and Castle’s as they near each other. Matt nods at Castle. “I guess I’ll see you out there,” he says, jerking his head towards the humming skyline. “In a different suit.”

Castle, distracted by Karen, says, “yeah, I guess so,” and Matt smiles to himself and goes back into the wedding. For tonight, the best man’s suit must stay on, and the Daredevil outfit in its box.


End file.
